


Unorthodox and Concerning

by arrafrost



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Chocolate, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrafrost/pseuds/arrafrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Stiles looked down to see a small, blue plastic bag. It wasn’t on fire or in a paper bag so there was a pretty good chance it wasn’t dog shit, but Stiles wasn’t going to take his chances."</p>
<p>Sometimes when you're sad the strangest and most unexpected things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unorthodox and Concerning

Stiles still wasn’t entirely sure how he was functioning today. His movements were sluggish as he moved around his kitchen in his pajamas. The past couple of days had been off for him. His attention span was much worse than usual and staying up last night until 8am simply because he had no desire or ability to get up from his desk and collapse in his bed didn’t help. 

Now he was moping against the counter, staring vacantly at the stove as his chicken nuggets sizzled from within. Everything was quiet, including his blank mind, which was why Stiles had a heart attack when there was a sudden, frantic banging on the front door followed by the doorbell having an aneurysm. After composing himself, he raced to the front door, which was locked because he hadn’t moved from his room in two days and his dad had already come home from work that evening.

Stiles wrested with the bolt lock, it jammed a lot and wouldn’t budge, but after a few tries, he managed to swing the door open… to his empty front steps. No one standing there, or on the lawn, or down the road, or even hiding in the bushes. Then Stiles looked down to see a small, blue plastic bag.

The teen eyed it suspiciously. It wasn’t on fire or in a paper bag so there was a pretty good chance it wasn’t dog shit, but Stiles wasn’t going to take his chances. He backed away slowly, with no intention of touching the bag and went to the living room to grab the bat that he’d stolen from the McCall’s house - because neither of them played baseball and Stiles had enough of nearly being beaten to death with it.

Back on the front porch, Stiles prodded the bag with his bat in attempts to see inside the bag. There was a small, sleek box inside the bag. A movie or a video game possibly? Scott’s odd and unorthodox way of returning one of the games he’d borrowed years ago without the possibility of Stiles getting mad at him for taking so long. Not that Stiles would because whether they played the game at his house or at Scott’s, it still got used.

Finding no real threat from the probable contents of the bag, Stiles set the bat aside and reached down to pick it up, eyes still frantically searching the street for possible suspects. If he were in a Western a tumbleweed would roll down the road, kicking up dust.

Closing the door behind him and locking it again, he opened the bag and looked in to see that it wasn’t a video game, movie, or even a book. It was a box of chocolates. He frowned and reached in to find his fingers touching a piece of paper, which he pulled out and unfolded.

_“Heard you were sad. These should help.-Derek”_

If Stiles was a cartoon character, a concept that was still up for debate, his jaw would be on the floor. Not a single coherent thought could be processed in Stiles mind as he blinked rapidly at the paper, trying to make sense of the scribbled writing of one Derek Hale. Sourwolf and brooding alpha extraordinaire… left his chocolates on his front steps… after ringing the doorbell and running away. 

Left him expensive and the most delicious fucking chocolates ever, it became apparent when Stiles pulled out the box of Desir Lait Seashells. His mouth actually started watering as he stared down at the box. He was going to dig right in without caring about the why or how, but the thing is… Stiles  _really did_ care about the why and the how.

How did Derek know he was sad? The only people that knew he’d been hauled up in his room were his father - the day Derek Hale and the Sheriff share a word that doesn’t involve Derek’s rights… Stiles shook his head. There was Scott, who he had texted back when he wanted to go to the pool to swim, which Stiles was not capable of and it didn’t have anything to do with the many hours he’d spent in there holding a paralyzed wolf either. Scott might have told Derek, maybe… but the only time those two talked nowadays was when Scott was telling Derek he didn’t want to be pack.

Lastly, there were Stiles tumblr followers which weren’t many but he did the off-hand fanfiction writing and fandom reblogs. He had made a text post earlier that… day before he passed out drooling on his desk at eight in the morning about how he had been feeling depressed. Everything around him was chaotic, he didn’t explain why they were chaotic because he wasn’t about to start talking about werewolves and kanimas online, and how all of his friends were growing up, getting stronger, changing and essentially… leaving Stiles behind. He wasn’t even friends with Isaac and Erica but they were… warming up to him it seemed after helping to save their lives. But with Scott, Lydia, Allison, even Jackson… in a way… Stiles was left being the only normal and unexceptional person in his group.

Stiles blinked. No. There was no way Derek was following Stiles on tumblr. The wolf typed like an old man whenever he pushed Stiles out of the way and stole his computer. And had access to his computer while Stiles was forced to sit on the other side of the room after leaving all of his tabs open because you don’t really get a chance to close them when an alpha is threatening to throw you out of your own window…

Scott told him. Case closed with no room for arguments.

Which only left Stiles with  _why the hell would Derek Hale go out and buy me the best kind of chocolates to make me feel better._ What the actual fuck was happening with the world and was the apocalypse happening? Had he missed that while locked away in his room for two days? No… tumblr would have informed him.

The smell of burning, breaded chicken caught his attention and he left his thoughts behind as he ran to the kitchen and opened the oven. Thankfully the nuggets weren’t burnt that badly but they were a little more black on the bottom than he would have liked.

After getting himself a plate and a glass of water, Stiles sat down at the kitchen table and turned the box of European chocolates over in his hands. He wasn’t entirely sure if he should eat them. True they were a gift, and it would be a waste if he didn’t eat them. They were supposed to make him feel less depressed after all… Derek’s money would go to waste if they weren’t eaten for their original purpose.

The plastic required the assistance of a knife to remove, but after that, they lid slid off easily and Stiles’ drooled at the sight of the delectable sweets. All neatly in their perfectly designed container. The dark brown and white chocolates mixing on their shells, looking almost too good to eat. Good thing Stiles didn’t much care for the aesthetic when it came to food and he had no qualms with picking up one of the first shells in the row and placing it in his mouth. 

He moaned around the chocolate on his tongue. That was how good it tasted. He couldn’t remember the last time he had quality chocolates. The ones he’d had for Christmas were mostly dollar store candies where you could taste the artificial flavors and additives. These were pure and 100% worthy of his chocolategasm and he had no clue as to how he was going to thank Derek for giving these to him.

**Author's Note:**

> More drabbles on [tumblr](http://arrafrost.tumblr.com/masterpost)


End file.
